Daddy's Girl
by Emily Victoria
Summary: [ON HIATUS] No one knows torment like she does. Or so she thinks.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Daddy's Girl

Disclaimer: I own Jessie and her family, the plot (kinda, as it's probably been done before), and anything else that isn't familiar.

Prologue

"Come on now Jess, just alittle closer, a little closer now come on sweetheart. Let me help you out, come on."

The elevator lurched drunkenly, throwing the 11-year-old girl to the harsh steel floor. A small sob of terror escaped the back of her throat where she had held it for so long.

Jessie looked up from the floor of the elevator, into her father's eyes and watched as he pulled her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, before lifting her up and passing her to the LAPD officer hanging through the access hatch facing the elevator.

The officer grabbed her wrists and pulled her quickly through the hole, passing her directly to her mother, a short dark-haired woman who had been in hysterics just moments before.

Jessie watched as the officer again leant through the access hatch and reached out to catch her father's extended hand.

The seconds that passed seemed to slow to an inordinately leisurely speed.

The scream of pure, unadulterated fear from her father, the white-hot look of over-whelming panic that flooded his indigo eyes and the stark paleness his normally flushed skin took on as he saw his wife and daughter race away from him.

The elevator hurtled downwards, to Harold Miller's death.

With him, he took the threat of a madman, and the triumph of saving others before himself. Upon his headstone, his wife had had _"He who saved and He that was lost"_ inscribed.

Raw emotion flooded Jessie's body and a pain unlike that of any other she had felt before gripped her heart in a vice-like hand.

"Daddy."


	2. In The Middle Of The Night

Chapter One: In The Middle Of The Night

_"Daddy."_

Jessie awoke in a cold sweat, salty droplets coursing down her cheeks. Her sheets were tangled in her legs and she had thrown her pillow across the room as she slept.

The dream was recurring. It plagued her whenever she closed her eyes, the awful images of the huge fireball of explosion that had engulfed her beloved father and his terrified eyes swam before her indigo pools.

Therefore, she never slept.

She hadn't been an insomniac and had never thought she could become one, yet the nightmares chased away all sleep-fuelled thoughts. She wished feverishly that she was able to just close her eyes and drift away, not seeing or hearing, just swimming in a black oblivion and letting her tired brain recuperate from her harrowing experiences.

Again, she tried lying back onto her cool sheets and closing her eyes, letting herself relax. She was dropping into a light doze, one that had been way overdue for her exhausted body.

Then her cell phone rang.

It's piercingly shrill tone cut through the air and she huffed angrily, before levering herself off her bed and walking to her vanity table, rubbing a small hand over her face as she went.

"Talk." She yawned down the cell, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Miss Miller, Mr. Gibbons requests that you get here immediately. He has something urgent you need to see." A monotonous voice rattled into her ear and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, he'll have to wait till morning, cause I'm tired." Jessie snapped back.

The line crackled alittle. "Miss Miller, get here now!" A man yelled, before hanging up.

Jessie groaned. "I guess I'll get dressed then huh? Damn Scarface."


	3. The Mission

Chapter Two: The Mission

Jessie strode along the white corridor, swinging her little black bag from one hand and sipping a Starbucks coffee with the other.

_24… 26… 28…** 30**_

Jessie stopped outside the room marked with a brass number thirty and rapped lightly on the door. Her dark glasses hid her eye-bags.

"Come in." A voice boomed from within. Jessie rolled her eyes again and pushed open the heavy oak door.

A tall, muscular man looked up as she entered the room. He was sat facing a long ebony desk.

Behind which was Augustus Gibbons.

"What the hell do you want Gibbons? It's three AM. I'm tired and I want to go home." Jessie snapped as she threw herself into the large swivel chair next to the muscled man.

Gibbons smirked and looked from one to the other. His guests were different, but more alike than they would ever realize.

"Miss Miller, I have called you here to brief you on your new mission and introduce you to your new partner. Xander Cage, meet, Jessica Miller."

Immediately, both of them launched into a tirade.

"I don't do partners!"

"Gibbons, we've been through this before!"

"**Enough**!" Gibbons yelled loudly, effectively silencing the two people before him. "You **will **work together, you **will not **argue and squabble like small children and you **will** obey my orders!"

Jessie scowled and slumped back in her seat, folding her arms protectively over her chest.

"You're a butthead Gibbons." She glared at the wall behind Gibbons' head.

Xander snorted. "Advanced vocabulary there Miss Miller."

"Better than yours could ever be, Grease Monkey." Jessie snapped, finally loosing her rag and whirling upon him.

"Temper Miss Miller, temper." Gibbons grinned mockingly.

Jessie flipped him off. "What do I have to do for your stupid little mission thing?"

Gibbons became solemn at once and pressed a button underneath the lip of his desk. A portion of the wall behind him slid away, revealing a computer screen. On it was a large photograph of a pale, auburn-haired man with cold, slate grey eyes and an auburn goatee. He wore an impeccable suit and carried a black briefcase.

"We are investigating Josef Kestanjev, a Russian drug lord. He also has the Russian Mafia on his payroll, so that's gonna make things difficult for you." Gibbons watched as Jessie raised an eyebrow and Xander scratched his bald head non-commitantly.

"Josef controls everything in Russia, even down to what type of toilet paper these people use. He has connections in higher places than God and is very willing to use them."

Jessie sighed heavily and then, as if talking to a small child, leaned forward and spoke. "But what are **we** meant to do about it? It's Russia's problem."

Gibbons just looked at her as if she was stupid. "Josef also controls what happens with many of our politicians, but of course, that doesn't matter to you, does it Miss Miller? As I was saying, Josef is a drug lord. He is also into prostitution and slave sales. But the worst thing is that, he has weapons of war."

Xander perked up alittle and surveyed Gibbons with veiled interest. "How do you know all this?"

"We have an under-cover agent out there with him, as close as she can get. Now, we're sending you two in as our last chance. Don't let me down. You will be flown out to St Petersburg this evening, no need to pack; we will provide clothes for you. Dress warmly. From St Petersburg airport, a car will be waiting to take you to your accommodation. You will be staying together in a small cottage. There is a car there for you, but if you feel the need, I'm sure your new friend Josef can find you one that better suits your tastes."

Jessie still looked unimpressed.

"Josef also deals in racehorses." Gibbons said off-handedly.

This made Jessie lean forward in interest. "What time's the flight?"

"I knew you'd see it my way Miss Miller. You will be collected from here at 1700 hours. I expect you to be here atleast two hours before that, so we can run through background checks and information sheets on Josef."

"Can we go now?" Xander asked, already on his feet and halfway to the door. "I'm sleepy."

"You are free to go." Gibbons leaned back in his soft leather chair and turned away from them leaving, to the computer screen infront of him. He studied the picture lazily.

"We will meet again Josef."


	4. Breakfast

Chapter Three: Breakfast

"I can't believe Gibbons didn't wait till a decent time to drag me here and tell me we're going after a drug lord. Christ!" Jessie groaned as an over-eager assistant collided with her, knocking her luke-warm coffee over her chest and his papers.

"Oh my Gawd, I'm so sorry." He gasped with an annoying nasal twang.

Jessie just waved it away and threw the empty Starbucks cup in the trash can nearby, whilst wiping at her pale pink tank top vigorously with a wad of napkins she had taken from an older woman.

The woman had disappeared for a moment after seeing the two bump into each other and had returned with the afor-mentioned napkins from the staff kitchenette down the hallway.

"Have a nice day ma'am!" The porter called after her as Jessie flounced out of the building. She turned and smiled.

"You have a nice day too sir."

The little old porter blushed and mumbled something in reply. Jessie, feeling elated despite her lack of sleep, walked briskly away. After walking the four blocks to her apartment, Jessie found Xander sitting on the steps outside.

"What are **you** doing here?" She asked, immediately on guard.

Xander shrugged non-commitantly. "Gibbons confiscated my key ring, cause I did too many stunts. What I forgot to mention to him was that my apartment keys were on there too."

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "What am I supposed to do, give you sympathy? Go to Gibbons and get your damn keys back!"

"Or you could put me up for the night. Come on, it's only a few hours, and we have to get used to working with and around each other." Xander cocked his head playfully to the side. "Please? I have nowhere else to go."

Jessie scrabbled in her bag for her keys, whilst snorting exasperatedly. "Don't you have friends? A girlfriend? Any kind of distant relative?"

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, before shaking his head in the negative.

The mechanical sounds of Badinerie filled the air.

"Hold this and be useful." Jessie snapped, whilst thrusting her handbag into Xander's hands. Fishing her cell phone out of her bag, she flipped it open.

"Talk."

Her face darkened as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, before biting out a "yes" and shutting the cell with a flick of her wrist.

"You'd better come in." She growled, unlocking the door and leaving it open for him to walk through.

"Nice place." He commented, looking around at the pale yellow walls and the wooden floors.

Jessie had wandered into the kitchen after kicking off her sandals. "It'll do." She called back.

"I'm going to get changed, and then I'm going to sleep. There's a spare bed in that room," she pointed behind Xander, "and help yourself to food and whatever."

Xander watched her walk into what he presumed was her bedroom and close the door. After a few seconds, the metallic click of a lock echoed around and Xander knew where he stood.

Look, but don't touch.

He glanced around him and noticed a row of photographs along a shelf. Wandering over, he saw an old, dog-eared photo of a good looking man, in his early thirties, with curly black hair and the same violet eyes as Jessie.

Evidently her father.

There was only two of him, the tattered one Xander had first seen and one where he was holding a small baby in his arms, looking down with a fond smile. The child was reaching up and gazed at her father with large indigo eyes, fringed with thick black lashes.

The rest were of Jessie with what looked like her mother and Jessie with her friends. Only one at the very end had Jessie in it, with a man holding her about the waist. On Jessie's left ring finger, a diamond ring flashed and winked in the sunlight of the park the photograph was taken in.

_So that's the way the wind blows._

After perusing the photographs of Jessie and her very pretty friends, Xander moved into the spare bedroom and flopped down onto the bed, shutting his eyes and putting his hands behind his head.

&& Later &&

"Xander?" Jessie called softly, walking into the spare room. "Xander, are you awake?"

Xander opened one eye lazily.

Jessie was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of panties and a camisole.

"Are you conscious?" She smirked lightly, wandering into the room and picking up his discarded tank top and pants, folding them neatly and setting his boots by the door.

"Depends what you mean by conscious baby." He replied groggily, rubbing a large hand over his face.

Jessie grinned evilly and lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. "I mean, are you awake enough to realize that if you don't get up, you'll never get any?"

Xander shot bolt upright as Jessie sauntered out of the room, sashaying her hips seductively as she went. Forgetting his clothes and just following her quickly out of the room, Xander grabbed Jessie by the shoulders as she entered the kitchen.

He pressed his lips to her and ground them together, causing friction and a bolt of passion surged up Jessie's spine.

She pulled away, licking her lips with her little pink tongue.

"I meant breakfast, but that works too."


	5. Interlude

Chapter Four: Interlude

After breakfast, Jessie rose from her seat at the small table and gathered the two plates, taking them to the dishwasher and stacking them in the sleek silver machine.

"When did Gibbons say we were gonna be collected?" She asked, throwing a dishwasher tablet in and shutting the large door.

"We have be at the agency at 3, so that leaves us 2 hours." Xander replied, picking up their two glasses and placing them onto the silver draining board next to Jessie.

Jessie surveyed him with large purple eyes. "So, what're you gonna do with yourself for 120 minutes?"

Xander watched as she put the carton of fresh juice back into the large silver fridge and knocked the heavy door shut with her hip.

"You wanna go for a drive?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

**Hey guys!!!**

**Sorry I haven't been adding any messages on the end of my chapters lately, I just forgot! I swear, if my head wasn't screwed on, I'd leave it on a bus!**

**My baby cousin was christened; I started jumping again after my horse (remember Rio?) was lame (she was MENTAL!!) and I now ride another horse called Basil. He's only six and he's soooooooooo cute!**

**Useless information for you, but ah well.**

**:-)**

**Love ya and leave ya,**

**M**

**xxxxxxx**


	6. Interrogations of the Playful Kind

Chapter Five: Interrogations of the Playful Kind.

Jessie pulled up infront of a small, grotty looking apartment building. Her Mitsubishi Eclipse purred like a kitten as they sat there.

"Home sweet home." Xander grinned. He opened the passenger door and clambered out, Jessie following his movements with her violet eyes.

"And how do you propose to get in there without your keys?" She asked in a voice like a knife edge. Jessie flung open her door and stepped out, following him up a slope to the large front door.

Xander wordlessly bent down and retrieved a small key from underneath a dog's water bowl. "Spare."

Jessie's nostrils flared slightly and she snarled in the back of her throat. "So you're telling me that you could have come home and let yourself in with that spare key in your hand at any time? You lied to me?"

He shrugged and fitted the key into the lock, gaining access and replacing the key in its hiding place. After holding open the door for her, Xander and Jessie shuddered upward in the old elevator.

They arrived and Xander opened his door. Inside there was pandemonium. The tall windows had been boarded up; there was glass shards littering the floor, as well as old liquor bottles and microwave meal packets.

"Nice place." Jessie remarked mockingly. Her smirk was lost in the dimness of the room.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Haven't been back here for a while."

"Looks that way." Jessie muttered, running one perfectly manicured finger over a shelf. Pulling it away, she saw it had been coated in a thick layer of dust. "Ewww."

Crossing the room, Xander flipped a switch on the wall, illuminating the room. "This is just the party room. You want somethin' to eat?"

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "If you haven't been back for a while, do you really expect there to be something edible here? Where have you been anyway?"

Xander's jaw tightened. "Bora Bora."

Jessie nodded, not sure if he wanted her to continue her line of questioning or not. She settled for not. "So what have you got?"

Xander wandered away, Jessie close behind. They entered a small white kitchen, immaculately clean, apart from the dust.

"I'm kinda dominant in my kitchen." Xander confessed sheepishly.

Jessie smiled, knowing that she had just caught a glimpse of the real Xander Cage.

"Nothin' good to eat here, you wanna go out?" He asked from inside the refrigerator.

"So, Miss Miller, what about you?" Xander asked, whilst taking a huge bite from his cheeseburger.

Jessie sipped Coke through a straw innocently. "What about me?"

"Where'd you come from? Do you have siblings? What's your middle name? How many decimal places do you know PIE to?" He grinned, swallowing his mouthful.

She bit into one of her fries thoughtfully. "I come from LA; I'm an only child; my middle name is Isobel, spelt I S O B E L, and I know PIE to nine decimal places. You?"

"I come from New York, I'm an only child, I don't have a middle name and haha, I beat you, I know it to eleven decimal places."

Jessie stuck out her tongue and grinned. "Okay, my turn to pose the questions… let's see… Do you or did you have any pets? Are you an atheist, or do you believe in God? Are you always so sure of yourself? Last but not least, what happened in Bora Bora that makes you tense up whenever anyone talks about it?"

Xander stiffened, but replied regardless. "When I was seven, I had a puppy, but he died when I was 21. I'm an atheist; I'm always **very **sure of myself."

Jessie surveyed him scrupulously. "And Bora Bora?"

"None of your damn business." Xander snapped, effectively silencing Jessie for the rest of the meal.

When they had both finished eating, Xander rose to his feet. "We should head over to the agency."

Jessie just nodded.


End file.
